Hugh Cook - The Werewolf and the Wormlord

‘Interesting,’ said Alfric, perusing the contract. ‘Such a luxuriance of words speaks of great expense undertaken by lawyers and their clerks. It speaks of a serious investment in myself. An investment on the part of the Bank, I mean. Surely that investment was not meant as a preparation for death. Or is there some nuance in the multi-layered complexity of the present situation which I have missed? Is this contract being evoked to secure my death?’

‘I have not said that the contract is being evoked at all,’ said Banker Xzu gently.

‘Then why show it to me?’ said Alfric, with a flash of anger.

‘To… to refresh your memory,’ said Xzu. ‘It does exist. It could be evoked. Should we choose. But we would prefer…we would prefer a volunteer.’

‘You want me to volunteer, do you? To volunteer to quest for the saga swords. But why? If you want me dead, why choose such an elaborate method?’

‘Alfric,’ said Banker Xzu, ‘we do not want you dead. We want you to succeed. To make yourself king. Were you to become Wormlord, there could be a very favourable alliance between the throne and the Bank.’ ‘But the quests are suicidal,’ said Alfric. ‘All three of them. Why, hundreds have been killed by the dragon alone.’

‘Not so,’ said Banker Xzu. ‘The dragon has so far killed fewer than sixty people.’

‘Fewer than sixty,’ said Alfric. ‘So I exaggerate, do I?

Many questing heroes have gone against the dragon. All have died. So you will grant, surely, a mortality rate of 100 per cent.’

‘I grant it,’ said Xzu. ‘But you are not as others. Come, let us descend to the lower depths. The Bank has gathered together certain experts who, we believe, can instruct you in methods whereby you may attempt the quests with every hope of success.’

‘That’s as may be,’ said Alfric, ‘but I beg permission to go home before attending a meeting with any such experts. My wife will be worried if I don’t come home soon.’

‘Return you cannot,’ said Xzu. ‘You must stay here until it is time for you to go to the palace.’

‘To go to the palace?’

‘Yes. To go to the palace to formally nominate yourself as a questing hero.’

‘You command,’ said Alfric, ‘so I must obey. Still, my wife will be worried.’

Actually, Alfric thought Viola could take care of herself; but he was nevertheless at pains to emphasize his concern, for the Bank placed a high value on marital stability, and Alfric knew the most casual comments sometimes find their way into a personal dossier.

‘Never mind about your darling Viola,’ said Xzu, in tones so soothing that Alfric momentarily wondered if the man was drunk. ‘A messenger will be sent to tell her you are delayed, and why.’

‘Is it wise for us thus to disclose our business?’ said Alfric.

‘Your wife will be… adequately informed,’ said Xzu. ‘Meantime, let us go and meet our experts.’

So Alfric Danbrog went and met with experts who had been gathered together by the Bank. And much did Alfric learn about the fighting of dragons, the braving of giants and the habits of vampires. Then he presented himself to the Wormlord. In the presence of Tromso Stavenger and his ministers, in the presence of Ursula Major and a full fifty of the Yudonic Knights, Alfric Danbrog committed himself to a heroic quest, this quest being to recover the three swords of saga and bring them to Saxo Pall in proof of the performance of his courage.

‘Well spoken,’ said the Wormlord, once Alfric had said his piece. ‘Usually, we would treat you to a congratulatory banquet before you set forth. However, on this occasion that is not appropriate.’

‘Why not?’ said Alfric.

‘Because your courage is not certain,’ said the Wormlord. ‘You accept the quest now, but you refused it earlier. Ride forth, my boy. Kill the dragon and recover the first sword. Return with that blade and then we will grant you a banquet.’

‘So you doubt my courage,’ said Alfric.

‘I do,’ said Stavenger. ‘You’ve something to prove, and prove it you must if you want to be king.’

‘His humanity,’ said one of the Yudonic Knights, interrupting unexpectedly. ‘That’s what he’s got to prove.’

‘Who speaks?’ said the Wormlord.

‘I do,’ said Ciranoush Zaxilian Norn, muscling forward.

‘What is your quarrel with Alfric Danbrog?’ said the Wormlord coldly.

‘My quarrel is simple,’ said Ciranoush Zaxilian. ‘The thing is not human. It is a shapechanger like its father. The father is a werewolf, and the son likewise.’

‘Alfric,’ said the Wormlord. ‘Speak to this accusation.’ ‘I am not a werewolf,’ said Alfric with dignity. ‘I cannot be. It is known that no person tainted by lycanthropy can enter the Bank. Before entering that organization, I underwent medical tests which proved me free of any such taint.’

‘You bribed the medical examiners,’ said Ciranoush Zaxilian. ‘Just as you bribed-’

‘That’s enough!’ said the Wormlord.

Ciranoush Zaxilian fell silent.

‘Soon,’ said Tromso Stavenger, ‘I will die. Whoever succeeds me will face grave dangers, for these are difficult times for Wen Endex. As you know, every year we recover a great tribute in jade from the Qinjoks. But each year the Curse of the Hag reduces this tribute to so much rubbish.’

So spoke the Wormlord, then paused for effect. Alfric guessed that the pause was inviting a laugh: but nobody dared express levity. So Stavenger continued:

‘As you know, the lords of the Izdimir Empire are not happy to receive a box of old sticks and leaves as tribute. Long have they demanded jade, and every year their demands grow more strident. The Demon of Ang is not easily appeased, as you know. I fear that Wen Endex will soon have need of the leadership of a hero.’

Tromso Stavenger paused again. Nobody even thought of laughing. The Wormlord was talking of the possibility of war, outright war between Wen Endex and the Empire to which it nominally belonged. That was a thought which sobered even the fiercest of the assembled warriors.

The Wormlord went on:

‘Our nation needs a hero as king. Whoever wins the saga swords will prove himself a hero by such endeavour. If Alfric Danbrog can win those swords then he will be the hero the times demand. Ciranoush Norn speaks as if he would dispute the right of Alfric Danbrog to go questing.

‘Very well then. I speak to you, Ciranoush Zaxilian Norn. I give you the right to quest for the three swords of saga if you so choose. If you wish it, I will restrain Alfric Danbrog while you try your chances against the dragon, the giant and the vampires. I will not release him from my grip until you have either succeeded or failed. Does that proposition appeal to you, Ciranoush Zaxilian Norn? Do you wish to seize this chance to make yourself a hero?’

Silence.

‘Answer me,’ said the Wormlord. ‘Do you or do you not choose to quest for the three swords of saga?’

Now Ciranoush Zaxilian Norn was not a coward, not exactly; but he was a realist. Ciranoush did not expect Alfric to return alive from the first quest, for the dragon Qa was a most reliable consumer of questing heroes. And Ciranoush, should he attempt the first quest, would have no better chance of survival.

So…

‘Answer!’ said the Wormlord.

‘I answer in the negative,’ said Ciranoush.

‘Then let it so be recorded,’ said Tromso Stavenger grandly. ‘Ciranoush Norn was offered the chance to be hero and king. He declined. But Alfric Danbrog accepted. Surely it is no accident that Alfric is my grandson.’

Then the Wormlord paused.

And the Yudonic Knights this time did what their king wanted them to do.

They cheered.

Meanwhile, a banker by the name of Eg was undertaking certain diplomatic initiatives at the behest of the Flesh Traders’ Financial Association. Let it be said that Alfric Danbrog, Banker Third Class, was entirely unaware of these initiatives; and, furthermore, would not have approved of them had he known about them.